


Definition of Content

by botanistlester (Skeletonflowers)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Happy Ending, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletonflowers/pseuds/botanistlester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan refuses to admit he is depressed and is forced to go to a psychologist, who is the literal human embodiment of sunshine</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definition of Content

There were nights where Dan would lie awake, staring at the ceiling while darkness surrounded him, suffocating him with demons of the moon. It was on these nights that it felt as if the silence were pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe, and all he could do was focus on the soft inhales as he tried to lull himself to sleep.

He hadn’t always been like this. Once upon a time, he remembered being able to fall asleep at nine at night rather than when the sun started to rise, and he was able to wake up feeling refreshed rather than even more exhausted than the previous night. He didn’t know what had happened, what had changed inside of him that it made every living moment a complete hell, but what was done is done and Dan had become accustomed to living in this way.

He remembered how it had happened gradually, slowly numbing his heart until there was nothing he truly cared for anymore, nothing he’d found joy in.

But the memories of past years were always pushed to the side because they made Dan’s heart ache and he would instead continue counting the ridges in his ceiling until he gradually fell asleep, the first few rays of sun flitting through his window. Some nights, he would only get a few hours of sleep before he would be awoken by the shrill of his alarm, screaming into his ears. He would then force his eyes open, wondering why he couldn’t just disappear from his life already as he showered.

It wasn’t like Dan was suicidal, no, he would never force pills down his throat or shoot himself just to stop the pain residing inside of him. It was just that he was tired. Tired of living, of being victim to same routine every day, of going to a job that he hated just to get by. 

There had to be more for Dan than this. That was the only reason he got up in the morning, the hope that today might just be the day where he felt the burden lift from his chest, making it a bit easier to breathe.

Today, though, felt no different. He cracked his eyes open to blinding sunlight, the alarm deafening him, and slid out of bed with an elongated sigh. It felt like Dan was a zombie with heavy eyes and exhausted limbs, but he threw on his work clothes anyways, not bothering to straighten his unruly hair. 

He didn’t bother to eat, not being able to stomach anything, and instead walked outside, squinting his eyes against the sun. And to be honest, he kind of wanted to tear his eyes out at the glare.

But he didn’t, keeping his eyes on the ground instead. 

So maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was fate, but only a few moments later, someone was slamming into Dan, knocking him flat to the ground. The man who Dan had slammed into let out a loud squeak, dropping a handful of around seven books onto the pavement. 

“I’m so sorry!” The man exclaimed, reaching out a slender hand to help the brunette to his feet. “I couldn’t see you over all of my books, I am seriously so sorry.”

Dan shrugged. It wasn’t like he cared and he had just over thirty minutes to walk to his work, so it’s not like he was in a particular hurry or anything. “Don’t worry about it,” He murmured, staring at the guy through his curly fringe.

He was attractive, Dan decided, with ebony hair in a similar fashion to Dan’s and sky blue eyes that stood out against pale skin. “I’m Phil,” The man finally uttered, bending down to pick up his books, Dan imitating him to seem a bit less rude.

“Dan,” He didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know if he even had enough energy to form the words on his tongue. “Why do you have so many books?” He surprised himself by saying in a flat voice.

Phil slid the last book into his arms and straightened up, trying to balance them strategically while surveying Dan with bright eyes. If Dan were darkness, then Phil would surely be the light, casting illumination upon everything in his past. “I’m getting married,” he sighed and there was something in his eyes that felt all too familiar to Dan. He must be reading it wrong, though, because there was no way. “These are books filled with different types of flowers and tuxes and dresses.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

The corner of Phil’s lips turned up into an amused smile. “You don’t seem very happy yourself, Dan.” Dan waffled uncomfortably at this. Was it that obvious?

So he just muttered that he had to go to work before scrambling off like a scared puppy, much like he actually was. He would probably rather get hit by a car than to have some random stranger off the streets realize just how empty he felt. 

The little bell sounded on the door when Dan pushed his way into the small pet shop that he worked at. Louse, his best friend, grinned at him through a kitten’s cage. “Dan!” She greeted, running over to him to throw her arms around him. “How are you?”

“Content,” Dan replied, grimacing as Louise sighed, mood obviously dampened. It was the same response he gave every day. Because he was stuck somewhere between sad and happy. He definitely wasn’t happy, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t bone-crushingly sad either. Instead, Dan felt nothing except a void in his heart where emotions should be. 

Louise looked disappointed somewhat, but that wasn’t a new thing either. “You will find a day where you are happy, Dan. That is the thing that I want for you more than anything.” And she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before attending to one of the customers that was swooning over the goldfish, a permanent smile on Louise’s face.

Dan wished it were that easy to conjure a smile.

*

“Fancy getting some food after work today?” Louise asked one day while stroking one of the hamsters, fingers soft with care. Her blue eyes were full of life, something that Dan craved for every day of his life.

Dan nodded despite his brain nearly screaming at him to just walk home and sleep for the rest of eternity. If there was anything he needed to do above everything else, it was to hang out with Louise. 

The blonde’s eyes lit up at his agreement as she started to babble about the sandwich shop that had just opened a few days ago. Dan looked away from her cheerful face to fiddle with a bag of dog treats, not being able to stand how overly happy she was. Happy with life, happy with herself. Something Dan’s not really sure he’ll ever be.

“So,” Louise started when they clocked out of their work and continued out the door. Dan looked at her expectantly as she went on. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been doing well lately. Just listen to me, okay? I’m really worried about you. You used to be so full of life and you had a bunch of friends and you genuinely had fun. But now, it seems as if you don’t have to energy to roll out of bed and there are days where I would come over and you would be lying in your room with all of the lights off just staring at the ceiling even though it’s three in the afternoon.” She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers over the back of Dan’s palm. “You aren’t doing well and it’s been like this for three years now. I think it’s time to see a psychologist, Dan.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the brunette, his muscles tensing as if his best friend had just suggested he’d killed someone. “I’m fine,” he lied through gritted teeth. The last fucking thing he wanted to do was to see a damn psychologist for temporary problems.

But Louise saw straight through his lie, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she pulled open the door to the sandwich shop. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Daniel James Howell,” She hissed, voice icy cold. “I can tell whether someone is ‘fine’ from a mile away and you’re the farthest thing from it.”

Dan was shaking as he sat himself in the seat across from his persistent friend. He was going to puke. “But how can I be ‘not okay’ if I don’t feel a god damn thing?”

Her eyes immediately softened and Dan mentally cursed himself for uttering anything about his condition. She reached forward and clasped his hand in hers, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “Dan, honey,” she cooed gently, “that’s the telltale sign of depression.”

Yeah, Dan was definitely going to be sick, and the cotton suddenly stuck in his throat wasn’t helping. There was no way he could be depressed. Depressed people killed themselves. Dan would never do that. “I’m not depressed,” Dan managed to croak out. But then why did it feel like such a lie? “And I definitely don’t need some stupid therapist to listen to my feelings.”

They sat glaring at each other for a long time, daring one another to say anything else, Dan chewing at his lip until it was bleeding slightly. It was only interrupted by the quiet clearing of a throat, and Dan looked up to find a man that looked extremely familiar.

Where had he seen those blue eyes before? That black hair? Dan couldn’t think, it physically hurt to because of how insanely tired he was, which is exactly why he was grateful for Louise in that moment, who politely asked the stranger what he needed so that Dan didn’t have to.

The man smiled shyly, eyes flickering over Dan just the slightest. “Dan, right?” At the brunette’s thin sliver of surprise, he added, “We bumped into each other on the street a few days ago and I was the idiot that knocked his books everywhere.” Ah, that’s right. Phil, the human embodiment of sunshine. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation a little bit and I know that you’re adamant about not going to therapy, but just in case you change your mind,” he reached into his pocket and brandished a small, white card, “don’t be afraid to make an appointment with me.”

And then he walked away, leaving Louise gaping after him whilst Dan only scowled more. “Who was that?” She breathed, seemingly shell-shocked. 

"Phil,” Dan muttered. He didn’t want to talk about psychologist Phil.

“He is absolutely stunning. Why didn’t you tell me you bumped into an angel on the streets? Heck, why didn’t you ask for his number?”

Dan grimaced at her unneeded excitement. How could such opposite people be friends? “He’s getting married.”

"Oh.” Yeah oh. Besides it isn’t like Phil would have actually given Dan his number even if he weren’t engaged. Psychologists like Phil knew how to deal with their emotions in healthy ways while Dan just let his consume him from the inside-out.

Plus, sunshine doesn’t thrive when suffocated by darkness.

*

Dan was getting bad. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for more than an hour, could barely even roll out of bed without collapsing in on himself. There was a monster inside of him, clawing at his insides until it felt as if Dan was dying, slowly but surely.

He ignored Louise’s phone calls, called off for work. It’s been four days that he’s laid in bed, feeling the weight of the world upon him.

“Dan.” And suddenly, there was another body in the bed next to him, fingers beginning to brush gently through locks of greasy, brown hair. “What’s wrong?”

It was Louise, of course, but Dan didn’t answer her question and instead mentally cursed himself for allowing her a key to his apartment, closing his eyes.

“I really think you should make an appointment with that psychologist." 

"I don’t need help,” Dan rasped, voice scratchy from disuse. He pulled the blanket away from his face to stare pointedly at the blonde woman, eyes adjusting with great difficulty to the light that she had turned on.

Louise slanted her blue eyes at him into a glare, but her eyes contained a certain fondness contained only for him. “If you don’t make an appointment, then I will.”

Dan cocked his eyebrow and buried back under the covers a bit. “You won’t.” 

“Watch me,” an then she whipped out her cell phone along with a familiar white card, dialing the few numbers then putting the device to her ear. A few moments of silence. “Hello? Phil? Hi, I was wondering if I could make an appointment for my friend, Dan Howell? It’s urgent. He’s not gotten out of bed for four days.” Dan pressed his lips together to keep himself from telling his best friend to fuck off, ignoring the small smile she offered to him. “Today at two? Alright, I will physically force him to come. See you soon, thank you so much.”

Looking at the clock, Dan let out a whimper when he realized it was already noon. That meant that he had an hour and a half, if even, to make himself look presentable. Happy. “I hate you,” Dan hissed, but he was only kidding and judging by her small chuckle, Louise knew that.

“I’ll be in the lounge when you’re ready,” the blonde murmured, pressing a ginger kiss to his forehead. 

Dan waited for her footsteps to fade before he threw the covers off of his body, standing to get ready for the first time in four days. 

Exactly an hour and fifty-two minutes later, Dan was sitting awkwardly in a pristine waiting room, clad in black skinny jeans and a plain black shirt, brown hair straightened to the max. 

Act happy and no one will be able to tell of the emotions you lack. 

“Dan Howell?" 

Dan looked up at his name, feeling Louise squeeze his hand in comfort, watching as Phil’s eyebrows raised up into his fringe at the sight of him. He probably didn’t expect the Dan that he had passed in the street to actually call him, much less actually try to look presentable.

Dan was definitely going to unfriend Louise for this.

"So your girlfriend told me that you haven’t gotten out of bed for four days,” Phil started, letting the two into a small room with a desk, two cushy red chairs, and a blue couch. Board games were lined up against a shelf littered with pictures of lions. 

But Dan didn’t care about that, splaying himself on the sky blue couch like it was his own home. “Louise isn’t my girlfriend,” he muttered. “I’m gay.”

Phil’s eyes widened and Dan wanted to smirk at the light blush rising on his cheeks. But he didn’t. Didn’t have enough energy. “O-oh, I’m s-sorry.” 

Dan only shrugged in response. It wasn’t like he cared, anyways. He didn’t really care about a lot of things.

But Phil didn’t seem to mind his lack of words, only sitting down in one of the plush chairs and leaning forward so his chin was resting in his palm. His eyes were filled with care, which is ridiculous because he was getting paid for pretending he was actually concerned. “So how old are you, Dan?”

It was obvious what Phil was trying to do. He was trying to soften Dan up so that the brunette would spill his feelings like actual word vomit. Not going to happen. “Twenty-three.”

“I’m twenty-seven. How long have you and Louise known each other?”

“Thirteen years.”

And it stayed like that for a while, Phil asking Dan questions while Dan answered them in two words or less, and yeah, this was kind of nice because Phil was pretty and Dan didn’t feel any pressure to lie about who he was when he was around Phil. Maybe that’s why Dan’s walls were beginning to crumble, but it made them shoot back up when Phil asked it. The question.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

Immediately, Dan clenched his teeth, eye twitching, shoulders tensing. And to think Phil was maybe different from the other psychologists. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

The edges of Phil’s lips rose slightly into a sad smile and Dan felt guilty for making clouds surface to block the sun from shining. But Dan hadn’t known Phil for very long and Dan wasn’t depressed, he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t. “You can be honest with me, Dan. I won’t tell anyone what goes on in here unless you are a danger to yourself or others, which I suspect isn’t the case.” Phil leaned forward, looking like he was going to lay a hand on Dan’s shoulder, before he thought better of it and withdrew it. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and Dan kept his attention on his mouth so that he didn’t have to look into those prying blue eyes. “At the same time, I don’t want you to feel pressured into talking if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I will be here for you to rant to whenever you need me.”

Dan felt something in his heart, a pang of some sort, because Phil seemed to be such a nice person and he didn’t deserve the weight of other people’s problems to be thrown on him. He remembered telling Phil that he didn’t look happy on that one fateful day where their lives intersected. Phil hadn’t denied it, so could it be possible that Phil was sad too?

But how could such a cheerful persona succumb to the darkness as easily as grey shadows?

Maybe that was the reason Dan had blurted it out, but before his mind had time to protest, he muttered, “Three years.” Mental cursing. “It’s been three years.”

The smile that lit up Phil’s face was one that Dan would remember for a long time, along with the words, “I’m proud of you.”

No one has been proud of Dan for three years.

*

Parties and Dan were a bad mix. Louise knew that, so why the hell would she drag Dan out of the comforts of his home to allow him to succumb to alcohol and smoking?

“You need to get out,” She had told him gently, “I’m the only person you talk to anymore. I’m only trying to help.”

But if she was trying to help, didn’t she know that alcohol and sadness leads to dependency? Drinking until you didn’t remember why you were ever sad in the first place? 

Dan tried not to drink tonight, he really did, but then someone plopped a drink in his hand and he found himself awkwardly sipping at it when he didn’t know what to do with himself. The alcohol was warm and bitter but it soothed his anxiety and made his chest fuzzy and soon Dan found himself refilling his plastic cup and accepting a cigarette from some random guy, even though he swore up and down that he would never become a smoker.

He was stupid, so stupid, but he didn’t know what else to do and the alcohol made his laugh sound almost real and the nicotine-filled smoke made his head swim, and he was alive, but stupid. Idiotic. 

And he blamed Louise.

It’s a strange world, the land of hazed air and booming music. You could lose all sense of morals within the swarming bodies, not caring one bit about any trouble you once had. Downing liquor like candy, inhaling poison as if it were an every day occurrence. And then you turn up on the pavement, ears ringing, vision starting to fade into blackness, and then you vomit into a plant pot, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. 

And Dan is okay with that.

So why did he find himself reaching into his pocket to obtain his phone, fumbling with the buttons until he came across a number he got especially for emergencies that he never wanted to use?

The phone rang twice, Dan laying his head on cool cement and closing his eyes. He didn’t care that the pavement scratched his cheek. He didn’t care when the ringing stopped, or when a slightly metallic, tired voice let out a greeting. 

“Hey, Phil,” Dan slurred into the speaker, eyes closed. 

“Dan?” Through the brunette’s thick haze, Phil seemed suddenly more alert. “Are you drunk? Where are you?”

Dan raised his head to glance at a street sign, squinting his eyes to make sense of it so he could articulate it to Phil.

“Okay, I’ll be there in twenty minutes to pick you up. Don’t move, alright?”

But Dan hadn’t been planning on so much as twitching, feeling exhaust seep into his limbs like it was greeting a long last relative. He was so tired and grass was slightly tickling his nose, but it was relaxing enough to fall into a deep slumber for the first time in a long time.

He didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but there was a hammer slamming into his head and the warmth of the duvet was a cocoon around him and he didn’t remember how he’d even gotten home. There was a water glass sitting on his bedside table with a couple of painkillers and a handwritten note.

Dan, thank God I’d looked at your address before I picked you up. You were passed out cold! I cleaned you up and made you some breakfast. Feel better. -Phil

If he didn’t feel as if his head was about to split in two, Dan may have conjured a slight smile at the care that Phil showed to him. Of course, it could possibly just be the annoying psychologist side showing through, but Dan doubted that.

With shaking hands, he reached over to bring the glass and pills up to his lips, downing the medicine like it was a drug essential to living. Perhaps it was, though. It sure as hell felt like it on occasion, at least. 

Nearly twenty minutes later, Dan found himself rolling out of bed when the aggressive gnawing in his stomach proceeded to torture him with claws of fire. About time he was feeling hungry. How long had it been since he’d forced down a proper meal? Dan couldn’t remember.

The smell of waffles and bacon urged him towards the kitchen, mouth watering at the scent, before nearly jumping out of his skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Phil, what the hell?!”

The black-haired man flinched, dropping a glob of pancake mix onto the floor. His hair was messy as if he’d just rolled out of bed, blue eyes revealing dark circles just underneath. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t think you would be awake so early.”

Dan blinked slowly and moved so he was wiping up the splatter on the tile. He didn’t mind Phil being there, really. He was nice enough to pick Dan up at whatever o’clock in the morning, and definitely went out of his way to make sure Dan had a healthy breakfast. The apartment was a pigsty, though, clothes strewn on the floor, empty cans littering the counter, which Phil deliberately threw away as well as cleaned up the dirty pile of food-encrusted dishes.

Dan didn’t care about his lifestyle and it showed.

“S’okay,” the brunette finally answered over the sizzling bacon grease. He looked over Phil’s features, noting how bloodshot his eyes seemed, and immediately felt guilty for being the cause of them. “Hey, why don’t you go lay down for a bit? I can finish making the breakfast.” It had to be the most Dan had ever said to Phil, and judging by the slight curve in Phil’s lips, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“It’s fine,” Phil replied, offering a small smile. “I can just finish making this and head home. I’m sure my fiance, Heather, is worried about me anyways.”

“Look, it’s not often I offer another human inside, alright? Might as well jump at the chance. I won’t be able to eat all of this food, anyways, and you look like you’re about to fall over, so please just take a nap and let me finish breakfast for us.”

Both boys stared at each other for a long while, brown into blue, somewhat wordless by Dan’s outburst. Dan was tired again and Phil smiled.

"Alright,” Phil murmured, handing the spatula to Dan, who only put it down so he could make sure an area was cleared on the couch for the older man. “Thank you.” Dan watched as Phil snuggled into the cushions and rolled his eyes.

What did he get himself into?

Ten minutes passed before breakfast was ready and Dan managed to balance two plates and two glasses of orange juice to carry them into the lounge, where Phil sense him enter the room and sat up, taking a plate and glass gratefully.

“How are you doing?”

Dan glanced up to see Phil wolfing down his food pretty quickly in comparison to his sluggish movements. “Been better,” Dan muttered bitterly.

“Why?” Phil sort of seemed surprised that Dan didn’t reply with his usual. Content.

A bite of bacon, chewed, washed down with a swig of OJ. “My head is exploding, I kind of want a cigarette, and I’ve got a damn psychologist in my house.” Dan let it slip out before widening his eyes, feeling guilty yet again. “I’m sorry. I’m really grateful for what you’ve done for me last night and this morning. I just- I’m not depressed, okay? And I don’t like how everyone is trying to tell me I am when I’m not.”

Phil was silent and looked at Dan through thick eyelashes that were such a contrast to his porcelain skin that it was slightly shocking. The gaze made Dan gulp and look down at his half-eaten food. “You know, Dan,” Phil started in a soft voice, “Everybody needs helps sometimes. Life can be harsh. It’s alright to be sad, and you just have to remember that people deal with sadness in different ways. Some have extremely happy days before getting crippling sadness for weeks. Others don’t feel anything at all. I’m not saying you’re depressed, I’m just saying that I’m the person that helps those people get pushed towards a happier life. It’s okay to ask for help if you need it, Dan.”

Why was it that whenever Phil spoke, Dan felt as if wool was clogging his airways? Dan wasn’t sad. He wasn’t. And that’s what he told Phil, who looked him straight in the eye and asked, “Do you really believe that?”

And the problem was that, no. He didn’t.

*

Dan wasn’t as opposed to seeing Phil after that day. He went to his office two days a week to have nearly the same conversation of different variations on each of those days.

“How are you today?”  
“Content.”  
“Any reason why?”  
"Not particularly.”

Phil was just doing his job, and Dan respected that despite the constant wonder as to why Phil chose to devote his life to listening to angsty adults complain about their lives. It had to be annoying and not as well paying at it probably should be, if Phil actually saved people from the spiralling black holes of depression and various other mental disorders of the like. Perhaps Dan didn’t give him enough credit.

Today was different, though. It was obvious as soon as Dan walked into Phil’s cozy little office that the relaxed aura was now heavy with lightning and the light that resided inside of Phil’s multi-coloured eyes had dimmed considerably. He seemed older somehow, much older than twenty-seven and he had a thin outline of dark facial hair on his chin. His lips were set in a firm line when Dan allowed himself to perch in his normal spot on the bright blue couch. “Good afternoon, Dan,” Phil started in a voice that sounded much different to the warmth that Dan had grown accustomed to.

What the fuck?

It was probably the only time that Dan even dared to venture out of his little bubble of comfort, because this literal piece of human sunshine right here was obviously not happy and that bothered Dan more than any of his almost nonexistent emotional problems. “What’s wrong, Phil?”

It was obvious by the slight movement of Phil’s muscles and how they bulged slightly that the question struck a cord inside of him. “Are you doing well today?” The stupid idiot chose to ignore him! 

Dan narrowed his eyes and rested his chin in the palm of his clammy hand. He wasn’t used to being so ballsy. Or caring so much about such a little thing, to be honest. “Cut the bullshit, Phil. I know you’re supposed to be helping me through my emotional trauma and crap, but you obviously have feelings as well and those feelings aren’t particularly happy as of now. Psychologists need someone to talk to as well, you know.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Phil snapped, making Dan’s jaw go slack as he sat back in the couch. He considered getting up and leaving, but that required way too much energy and Dan also didn’t think he could leave Phil feeling like this. It seemed he made the right choice in staying because Phil immediately apologized for his rudeness, his head falling into his hands and tugging at raven black strands of hair. 

Dan let him be for a minute, trying to rack his brain for the correct words to submerge from the depths of his selfish mind while watching the tightening of the pale skin on Phil’s hands as it clutched and pulled. “I’m listening,” he ended up saying with a softness that he didn’t know he possessed. 

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Phil admitted, and Dan didn’t have time to be confused by this because the man launched into a monologue while Dan did what he was best at: listening. “I really want to marry her, I seriously do. Heather is a lovely girl and she’s beautiful and has a great sense of humor and she’s everything I’ve wanted in a spouse, but for some reason I just keep feeling like I’m doing something wrong and that we are moving way too fast. One moment we’re dating and I like kissing her and like having a girlfriend, and the next Heather and her mom kept talking about marriage and when I’m going to propose and I feel like I’ve just gotten pushed into it before I had time to really enjoy being with her. And you know the sad part? I don’t even want to start a family with her. I literally have no desire to have children with her and I’m supposed to be marrying her in three months.”

Phil let out a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a groan, and Dan got the uncomfortable feeling that he wanted to go over and hug him, but he managed to refrain himself despite his arms itching to do such a strange embrace. “Wow,” Dan started, gazing into tortured blue eyes that were now more grey than anything. “I don’t really know all the right things to say because I’ve not really been in a predicament like yours before and the last guy I dated was about three or four years ago, but it really sounds like you need to take a day for yourself. A day where you don’t have to think about Heather or the wedding or any of the crap that could possibly be going through your mind at this very moment. You need time to think and have a little fun. You spend so much time listening to other people’s problems that you don’t have time to actually focus and deal with your own and it could be a huge problem in the end, you know? And after you have this ‘Phil Day,’ you should probably go home the next day and sit Heather down and tell her exactly what your feeling, because what is a healthy relationship if you can’t be honest with each other? And if you still feel that way after all of that, and you still don’t want to start a family with her, then maybe Heather isn’t the right woman for you. You need to make sure that you are happy before deciding you can provide a joyful life for yourself and your significant other.”

Phil sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a choked laugh. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak,” He murmured, voice raspy from tears that were threatening to fall throughout Dan’s whole speech. “Thank you though, I really needed to get that off my chest.”

“Anytime,” Dan replied reflexively. He handed his psychologist a tissue, watching him wipe his nose on it before crumpling it into a ball. “About this Phil Day thing, are you free tonight by any chance?”

“You’re actually my last appointment and Heather is staying with her parents in Manchester.”

Dan couldn’t help the little grin that came to his lips, almost surprising himself. What was this feeling in his stomach that felt as if his gut was being clenched? It was somewhat pleasant, which was unusual in itself. “Would you grace me with your presence and come to dinner with me, then? Perhaps I could aide you on your quest.” 

Phil laughed loudly then, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, and the ache in Dan’s stomach intensified. “If that’s how you put it, then yes. I could enjoy a night out.”

It was half five when they finally ended their session together and headed off to a nice Italian restaurant a few blocks down that had lasagna to die for and champagne that made the finest wine taste like bland grape juice. They were both quite under dressed for the occasion, Dan in his usual black skinny’s and a very sexy High School Musical tank, while Phil wore identical jeans and a dark blue button-up with little black hearts scattered on it. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed this much,” Dan admitted half way through the dinner, feeling his cheeks hurting from smiling too wide.

Phil beamed at that and leaned forward a bit to clasp his hands together on the table, looking even more pale under the various fairy lights littered around the restaurant. “I’m glad, Dan.” Phil’s voice was quiet, and Dan strained to hear it over the slight chatter and violin music playing in the background. His eyes were back to their light blue again and glittered in the lighting, and he looked like some sort of black-haired angel. 

Heather’s angel, Dan thought to himself, shaking his head slightly to dislodge the romanticized thoughts of the man sat right in front of him. They weren’t on a date, Phil had only agreed to come so that he could sort his thoughts out about his obviously-doomed marriage. Just because a man agreed to come to dinner with Dan did not mean that Dan had to go and romanticize every moment just because he hadn’t been on a date in so damn long that he couldn’t even remember what he did on his last one or who it’d even been with.

Besides, Phil definitely wasn’t even gay.

“Alright?” Phil asked, interrupting Dan’s flurry of thoughts. 

Dan nodded and offered a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You.

“Nothing in particular. I just hope you’re having a good time.”

Phil grinned, nodding his head wildly and making black hair fly around his face. “This is great, Dan. I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

There was a slight heat in Dan’s cheeks, but he ignored it because he definitely wasn’t blushing over a friendly declaration of gratitude. He most definitely wasn’t. Dan was getting annoyed at himself, frustrated to the point where he wanted to throw himself out a window or bash his head on the wall. During the whole dinner, he couldn’t stop gazing at Phil like he was a piece of art. And even now, walking through the diminishing city until they were surrounded by only trees and the vast expansion of night sky, Dan didn’t pay any mind to the stars above him.

All of his attention was on the man beside him, walking next to him and occasionally brushing hands. Accidentally, on Phil’s part, not so much on Dan’s.

Phil stopped walking to flop onto the ground, spreading his arms above him so he was grasping fistfuls of fur-like grass in pale palms. His eyes were dark as he stared at the sky, Dan settling down next to him. “It’s so pretty.”

“It is,” Dan agreed, even though he wasn’t staring at the expanse above them. He blinked slowly when he realized he was gazing somewhat creepily at Phil, turning his attention to an interesting looking tree to his right. 

“Dan,” Phil whispered, making Dan look back over at him. Only this time, Phil was gazing back. “You don’t have to stop looking at me if you don’t want." Oh my God, Dan wanted to die. His face was hot and he stammered out a reply that didn’t really make sense, making Phil chuckle and lightly touch his arm. "I like when you look at me.”

“I just-.” Dan had trouble getting the words out. He wasn’t very good at socializing or talking about his own personal feelings. He just wasn’t good at people, period. “I like looking at beautiful things,” he finally admitted, looking away from Phil and resting his arm over his face so that he didn’t have to see Phil’s expression and also so that the elder wouldn’t notice the redness expanding over Dan’s face.

Phil was silent beside him, making Dan worry that he’d said something wrong, but a few moments later he heard a shuffling noise follow by a hand lifting his arm away from his face. Dan came face to face with the man he kind of wanted to currently avoid if it saved himself from embarrassment. They were so close though that Dan could feel the heat radiating from Phil’s body and hot breath ghosting across his lips, and Dan squirmed because he really wanted nothing more than to press his own lips to Phil’s but he didn’t want to break any barriers between them. “You think I’m beautiful?” Phil whispered and Dan had to bite his lip to hold back a whimper at the breath that blew across his lips.

“Know,” Dan corrected softly, trying his hardest to keep eye contact. It was very hard though and he ended up looking down at Phil’s lips. “I don’t think you’re beautiful, I know you’re beautiful.” And maybe it was really fucking cheesy, but Phil smiled and they were so close that Dan only had to twitch and they would be kissing, but his heart was pounding in his chest and he was kind of petrified because he hadn’t felt anything for three years and suddenly it felt as if every fucking emotion was barrelling into him all at once. 

“Dan,” Phil breathed again, and he brought pale fingers up to ghost across Dan’s cheek, where his dimple would normally be. Dan shuddered against the touch and nuzzled into it. “Will you kiss me?”

Dan’s eyes widened and if he wasn’t completely red before, he surely looked like a tomato now. “Y-you want me to k-kiss you?” Phil nodded and brought their faces slightly closer until their noses were touching and their lips were mere centimeters apart. Dan never thought he could yearn for something as much as he did in that very moment. “Are you sure?” But Dan didn’t really have to ask because he was already reaching out to brush his thumb over Phil’s cheekbone and Phil moved forward again ever so slightly so that their lips were brushing, and that is all it took for Dan to close the gap between them.

Phil let out a quiet whimper, sliding his hand to the back of Dan’s neck to pull him closer, and Dan could swear that he was dreaming. It was a slow kiss, just two humans enjoying the intimacy of each other. Dan enjoyed the way that Phil’s skin felt beneath his fingers, smooth and warm against the cool breeze of the outdoors, and Phil’s lips were really soft, and it was as if every emotion Dan had forgotten had risen inside of him.

He never wanted this to end.

But of course, it had to. Because Dan had forgotten something huge about Phil, something that made every wonderful flower rising inside of his lungs quiver and die. 

“Phil,” Dan muttered against the other man’s lips, ruining the moment no doubt. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Phil complained, trying to reconnect their lips, but Dan held him back and gave the man one look that made all of the color drain out of his face. “Heather,” Phil gasped, scrambling to his feet. He started tugging at his hair, biting his lip. “Fuck, Dan. I-I completely forgot. I-I need to g-go.”

Dan started to rise to his feet, moving quicker than he ever remembered. “Wait, Phil, I-.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said firmly and started to back away, pushing against Dan’s hands when he tried to stop him from leaving. “I can’t do this.” Then he ran, pulling every single happy emotion that Dan had felt in the past thirty minutes with him.

He didn’t stop Phil, knew that there was nothing he could do or say to make the situation better. Instead, Dan sunk to the ground, put his face in his knees, and allowed himself to cry. 

He cried because for a short moment, he remembered what it was like to be more than content, because he had actually felt something other than blackness.

He cried because he realized that Louise was right. 

*

Dan hadn’t seen Phil in about a month. He was okay with it, as okay with it as he would ever be, he supposed. The night that Phil had left him in the clearing, he called Louise, and through a lot of coaxing and tears, Dan admitted that he was depressed. 

Since then, he’d seen a psychiatrist who prescribed him with various medications and was officially diagnosed with major depression. Good for him, he supposed. Well not the diagnostic, but his actually admitting that he needed help and actually doing something to help himself. 

He was still sad, obviously, the medications didn’t take effect after only a few weeks. It was more like a gradual thing, but he was definitely getting there. He refused to let himself waste away in bed anymore, forced himself to down a whole meal no matter how hungry he was, and he made himself look his best every day.

Dan was getting there. He went out with friends, he socialized, and he did things for himself because if he didn’t, then who would? 

But that didn’t mean that he was prepared for when the very man that made him admit he had a problem showed up at his door.

“Phil?” Dan asked in surprise, nearly dropping the book, House of Leaves, that he was reading. He gaped at the older man, taking in the ebony hair, pale skin, and now-grey eyes that he’d dreamt about for a little over a month, although they were framed by thick black glasses now. Blinking, Dan moved to the side so that Phil had access to come inside. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure,” Phil murmured, and it was sort of awkward but Dan didn’t mind. He was just joyous that Phil seemed to be doing alright. Dan watched as Phil looked around, noticing the slight surprise on his expression when he noticed that the whole apartment was top-notch clean, making Dan chuckle. 

“I’ve been trying to keep the place clean,” Dan said, walking over to the lounge so they could sit on the couch and have a talk, because surely that’s why Phil was here. To talk. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Water?”

Phil shook his head and offered a slight smile as he sat down rigidly, shoulders so rigid that Dan almost rolled his eyes and nearly had to physically restrain himself from doing so. “How have you been?” Phil started, keeping his eyes on his hands as if he was scared Dan would jump him.

This time, Dan did roll his eyes. “I’m not going to kill you, I promise,” Dan chuckled before answering Phil’s question. “I’ve been doing better. But the real question is, why are you here?”

Grey eyes glanced around nervously, anywhere but Dan’s face. “I wanted to apologize.” He gulped. Dan watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down slowly. “For that night I left you alone.” Dan tried to cut him off, to tell him it’s okay and that he was over it, but Phil shot him one look that made him shut his mouth. “I never should have ran away like that. I asked you to kiss me and you were just doing as I asked. I don’t regret it, you know. Kissing you, I mean. It felt right with you and I liked the way you made me feel, but then I got scared because I was an engaged man and there I was kissing another man.” Dan didn’t let the ‘was engaged’ slip past him and raised his eyebrow. “I’m a shitty psychologist because I let my feelings get in the way of your counselling, but you told me on that day that a good relationship has to communicate well with one another, so I really need to talk to you about this stuff. I did a lot of thinking. Even talked to Heather like you told me to.” 

He paused, urging Dan to say, “And…?”

For the first time, Phil met his eyes, and Dan was once again shocked by how beautiful the swirling colors were. “I left her.” A deep breath. “I realized that I didn’t want to get married to her or raise a family with her and that I was just pressured into making that decision before I was ready for it. I also realized that I had- have- feelings for you that make my heart do weird things and I lose my breath when I look at you and I wouldn’t mind waking up to your face every morning some day.”

Dan felt his mouth dry and his chest squeeze because fuck he’s been waiting a month for this shit, but he let himself smile and move so that he was sitting on the couch beside Phil. “First you need to know some stuff, too, alright?” He waited for Phil to nod before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m Daniel James Howell. Three years ago I stopped wanting to wake up in the morning, I stopped hanging out with my friends, I stopped talking to my parents, and I dropped out of Uni. The only person I ever bothered with was my best friend, Louise, who’s been here for me to almost literally throw me out of bed when I refused to. Three months ago, I started seeing a psychologist who I kind of hated a first, but I warmed up to quickly because I couldn’t help but think he was kind of like human sunshine. I really kind of liked him a lot, you know? More than anything I could remember enjoying.” Dan’s voice caught in his throat, but a warm hand quickly found his and squeezed it, urging him on. “A month ago, I was sitting in the middle of the woods and I was crying pretty damn hard, but I called Louise and told her I needed help, that she was right when she said I wasn’t okay. She took care of me like always, got me in to see a psychiatrist, and I started taking medicine for my problem. A month ago, I was diagnosed with major depression.” 

Dan didn’t realize he was crying until he felt warm arms wrap him up into an embrace, Phil’s face nuzzling into his hair while Dan wet Phil’s shirt with his salt water tears. But he wasn’t sad, no. He was relieved. It felt so good to finally get everything off of his chest without any restraints, and being in Phil’s arms and hearing that Phil liked him a lot made him way more than content. He was happy.

“We can help each other,” Phil whispered, pulling away to give Dan a fond smile, reaching up to wipe away Dan’s tears with his thumb. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dan’s left cheek, then his right cheek, forehead, and his nose. Finally, with a grin at Dan’s tiny giggle, Phil captured Dan’s lips in his own.

It didn’t matter that they both screwed up, because if Phil was Dan’s sunshine, then Dan was Phil’s whole sky, rain clouds and all.


End file.
